Writing a blog is a luxury. And I learned that the hard way.
When you start writing a blog, you mostly do so with some very lofty ambitions. And if you are obsessively organized like me, you also create a blog publishing schedule, writing your pieces around this predetermined structure. Of course, if you are always pursuing perfection and order, you are even more likely to take into account possible scenarios or days when you may not be able to meet your own publishing schedule. So you save some pieces for those “rainy days,” in the hope that you quickly outlive that particular or series of ‘abnormal’ circumstances that hamper your normal routine; in the hope that you are fortunate enough to be able to quickly go back to life as you knew it and resume your regular publishing schedule.
And yet, the dead and the dying may have other plans for you — distorting all your meticulously designed plans and teaching you, instead, that normalcy and the mundane are sometimes a luxury that most cannot afford.
And so it was! In the weeks of November and December, no week resembled another. My family was either saying our goodbyes to dying relatives, or being there for friends who had lost their dear ones and, in that respect, grieving for those dear ones who were also our friends, or remembering our own losses, those we faced each year for three consecutive years.
So, when my friend playfully reprimanded me with the words “19 November,” I quickly defended my stance knowing she was referring to the date of my most recently published post. She told me she understood, but that exchange left me thinking about life and death, and normalcy and change.
For Tibetans, being “tem-po” or consistent (not the other meaning: risk averse) is considered one of the greatest virtues a person can have. Whole families are known by this characteristic and lauded for it. Being tem-po meant you were reliable at all times, that you were rock-solid — there through thick and thin. A tem-po person isn’t overly in awe when you suddenly become the next Prime Minister of a country or do the opposite, by turning his back on you when you suddenly lose all your fortunes. A tem-po person is just that, tem-po/consistent, through it all.
And so, as the new year dawns, I find myself hoping that I am a tem-po person in the blogging world. That I gain your trust and appreciation for not disappearing during the “rainy days,” for not letting change or ‘abnormal’ circumstances get the better of my blogging and that I keep writing and sharing.